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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22695334">sad sex is... no</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/disgruntledkittenface/pseuds/disgruntledkittenface'>disgruntledkittenface</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>American AU, Angst, M/M, Smut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 10:47:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,430</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22695334</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/disgruntledkittenface/pseuds/disgruntledkittenface</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“Hey, are you…”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>As he hesitates, a line appearing between his furrowed eyebrows and a pout forming on his puffy pink lips, the words “don’t say it” run on a loop in Nick’s head, like a prayer.</em>
</p>
<p> <em>“... okay?”</em></p>
<p> <em>He said it.</em> <br/> <br/><em>Fuck.</em></p>
<p> A gryles AU based on Harry’s iconic quote from the Jools Holland interview.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Nick Grimshaw/Harry Styles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>54</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>sad sex is... no</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/YesIsAWorld/gifts">YesIsAWorld</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Happy early birthday + Galentine's Day, <a> Nic</a>! Please accept this humble offering of a slice of angst as a token of how much I appreciate you and your friendship and your partnership and your Pisces heart &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They fall through the front door without breaking the kiss somehow, their hands roaming each other’s bodies uninterrupted. There are no doggies to worry about at Harry’s house, just a tiny cat named Evie who’s off somewhere minding her own business, as cats are wont to do. So they stumble through the hallway toward the bedroom like characters in a bad movie, tugging at zippers and tearing at shirts as their teeth clack together. When they land on the bed, finally naked and tangled from head to toe, Nick is on top, just like he likes it. If he takes charge, leading the dance between them, there’s less room in his mind for the sad thoughts to creep in; he’s too busy deciding to mouth or maybe suck here, squeeze or pinch there, tease everywhere.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry is perfect for him. He likes his pleasure dangled in front of him, just out of tantalizing reach until Nick is ready to give it to him. It takes all of Nick’s concentration to take Harry right to the edge and then back away, over and over again for as many times as they can stand it. Tonight is no different, a glorious, perfect distraction from the looming cloud of memories waiting to descend. He puts off making Harry come for as long as he can physically manage, but eventually they explode, almost simultaneously, with blinding, white-hot pleasure, collapsing against the mattress with heaving chests.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck me, that was good,” Harry pants, reaching blindly for a water bottle on the nightstand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry always chugs all of his water but the last sip before remembering to offer any to Nick, so Nick just watches as he misses it by about a mile, making no move to help. It takes at least a full minute, but Harry finally makes contact, grasping his long fingers around the bottle and proceeding to drink almost all of it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Want some?” he rasps, holding the nearly empty bottle out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re too kind,” Nick says, not bothering to stifle the urge to roll his eyes. Harry’s not looking anyway, having thrown a hand over his face as he lies back against his pillow. “Okay if I take a quick shower before heading out? You came, like, all over me. It’s kind of disgusting, actually.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry smirks below the hand over his face. “You loved it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nick takes that as a yes, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing. He stretches his arms over his head while he twists at the waist, cracking his back as come slides down his thigh. Oh, right. Shower.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry doesn’t follow him into the master bathroom, melting into his silk sheets, thoroughly debauched and completely unbothered by the streaks of come drying on his lithe body. He’s always had a bit of a French courtesan air to him, Nick thinks. It’s not entirely fair given Harry’s infinite kindness and penchant for puns, but he revels in his own satisfaction in a way that Nick can’t help but envy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After using all of Harry’s expensive products in the shower (one or two of them, twice), Nick lets the hot water sluice over his body, willing the dark cloud away. There are a lot of things he doesn’t want to think about at the moment – his dad, his career prospects, his seeming inability to make lasting connections with other human beings – but one by one they cycle their way to the forefront of his mind, tormenting him with images from the past couple of years. Tears prick his eyes, but he stubbornly rubs them away. Maybe if he was in his own shower, he’d give himself over to it, have a good cry, but he can’t now. Not here. Not when he has to face Harry on his way out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He turns the handle with more force than is strictly necessary, shutting off the water before pulling back the shower curtain. His heart skips a beat when he sees Harry leaning against the counter, wordlessly holding out a towel. Refusing to ask how long he’s been standing there, Nick takes the towel and starts to dry off. It’s a little unnerving how Harry is quietly watching him, but not knowing why has to be better than knowing, so he rushes through toweling off, shaking out his wet hair at him like a dog and earning a shriek and a few giggles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just when he thinks he’s about to get away scot-free, Harry reaches out and grabs his arm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, are you…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he hesitates, a line appearing between his furrowed eyebrows and a pout forming on his puffy pink lips, the words “don’t say it” run on a loop in Nick’s head, like a prayer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He said it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You just seem kind of,” Harry starts, holding out a flattened hand and tilting it side to side. “I don’t know, sad? Sad. It’s like every time we do this–”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You come so hard, you can’t see straight?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s a weak attempt at deflection, but it’s all Nick can come up with on the spot. He feels hideously exposed under Harry’s careful gaze, and it has nothing to do with the fact that he’s still naked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, that,” Harry says, pout sliding into a momentary smirk. “But seriously, it’s like you’re trying to distract yourself or something. And I just… yeah, it’s good every time, like really good, but I just couldn’t help noticing tonight that you were here, but you weren’t really </span>
  <em>
    <span>here.</span>
  </em>
  <span> You just seem kind of sad, and sad sex is… no.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shrugs helplessly, his speech apparently over.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, thank you for that eloquence, Harold,” Nick blusters, twisting his arm to escape Harry’s hold and edging backward toward the door. “‘Sad sex is… no.’ Must be why they pay you the big bucks.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck off, I’m trying to talk to you,” Harry says, a glint of fire in his eye. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That’s good, Nick can work with that. With any luck, he’ll be out of here in five minutes with this bridge firmly burned and his broken heart protected from being picked apart. He can always find another fuck. What he can’t do is let Harry make him bare his fucking soul.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Listen, babe,” Nick says coldly, gathering up his clothes from the floor. “This was fun and all, but maybe it’s time we see other people, yeah?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why?” Harry challenges, standing naked in the middle of the room, dried come flaking off his belly. He has no shame; it’s what Nick loves and hates about him in equal measure. “Because I brought up your feelings? Are you fucking kidding, Nick?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not, actually,” Nick says as he shimmies into his jeans and zips them up. “You know what this is about, babe, and it’s not feelings.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looks up, expecting to see the fire in Harry’s eyes glowing, but Harry doesn’t look hurt or angry. He almost looks sad, but Nick knows better. He’s seen the look on Harry’s face on the face of just about everyone he knows at this point: pity. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, fuck pity. He doesn’t need it and he certainly doesn’t want it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Call me when your hit single ‘Sad Sex Is… No’ hits the airwaves,” Nick sneers, grabbing his shirt and boots and stalking out of the room. It’s not that cold out, he’ll finish getting dressed on Harry’s stoop if he has to. Fuck this.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nick. Nick, wait!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t hesitate as Harry’s voice travels down the hallway after him, focused on retracing their fumbling path from earlier in the night, single minded in his determination to make it to the door and just get out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That is, until Harry’s hand closes over his shoulder, forcing him to stop and turn. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am well aware that I write too many songs about you,” Harry says lowly, his eyes on the floor. “But I’m not fucking writing one about sad sex. Do you think that’s what I want from you? For you to keep me at arm’s length unless you happen to be trying to fuck out your demons and using my body to do it? Fuck you, Nick. Fuck you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry voice cracks, belying his defiant words, and tears fall, splashing against Nick’s skin. The wild panic clawing at his insides doesn’t abate; he has to get out, he needs to get out, but he makes the mistake of looking into Harry’s watery green eyes and suddenly he just… can’t. He can’t bring himself to walk away from the boy in front of him, naked and beautiful and so open that it hurts Nick to look at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What he realizes in that moment, though, is that it would hurt more to look away. He’s lost so much, so many things have been taken away from him. He hasn’t ever really let himself have Harry because he’s been so fucking terrified he’s going to lose him too. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Nick doesn’t move away, hovering in Harry’s space and staring into his eyes, Harry gently pulls him even closer by the hips, blinking away tears. It would take a stronger man than Nick to resist wiping those tears from Harry’s cheeks, so he lightly thumbs at Harry’s soft skin. He can’t bear to stop touching him once his cheeks are dry, so he cups Harry’s strong jaw with both hands. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But we don’t do this,” Nick whispers hoarsely, his voice coated in unshed tears. “You don’t want–”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do want,” Harry says, his tone fierce, bordering on mutinous. He takes charge, leading Nick in the unfamiliar choreography. “I’ve always wanted, Nick, you know that deep down. I know you do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s right. But Nick’s never met an uncomfortable truth he couldn’t lock away in a box, and he hasn’t had to face this one in a long time. Years. But here it is, right in front of him with wide-open green eyes searching his own. The slim, very slim, possibility of Harry actually sticking around if Nick relents and lets him all the way in had been locked in that same box, and it springs out at him suddenly, overwhelming after so many years of holding pieces of himself back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What if–”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry cuts him off with a kiss, the taste of desperation hot on his tongue. Nick is too startled to return it, taking what Harry offers. The crack in his resolve widens until there’s almost nothing left. Harry has a terrible sense of humor and loves to be pampered and can’t put together an outfit to save his life, but above all else, Harry is a decent person. He wouldn’t offer himself up like this if he didn’t have some idea of what he was in for. If he wasn’t ready for it. For Nick.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry rests his forehead against Nick’s, breathing heavily. “You don’t have to let me all the way in right away, Nick. All I’m asking is for you to try.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He makes it sound so easy. It’s probably the hardest thing Nick will ever do. But Harry is asking, and he can’t say no.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>*</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A lock of hair falls across Harry's forehead as he bends his head, a tear sliding down his cheek. As it splashes against Nick's skin, he reaches up to run his fingers through Harry's soft curls, reveling in the whimpers escaping his puffy pink lips as he bounces on Nick's cock.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It's been years since Harry ruined him for anyone else and there's still nothing better than being enveloped in his tight heat. He loves the feeling of Harry surrounding him like this, caging him in and overwhelming all of his senses; he can’t get enough of it. The sweat-damp skin of Harry’s throat beckons him to press his nose down and inhale and he lets the vanilla and tobacco top notes of his cologne fill his nostrils before he bites down, causing Harry to cry out. It’s music to his ears as he licks over the salt of Harry’s skin, tightening his grip on Harry’s hips as he thrusts up to meet him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Watching Harry as he tilts his head back, his eyes shut and lips pursed as he concentrates, using all of his strength to take his pleasure from Nick is his favorite part. He’s so open, making no effort to hide how much he needs it, how much he enjoys it. How desperate he is to climb to new heights and how much he wants Nick right at his side as he reaches the pinnacle untouched, spurting thick ropes of come all over Nick’s chest. He fucks Harry through his orgasm, satisfied to focus on Harry’s pleasure instead of his own but not like before. Not to keep anything at bay, but to give Harry everything he wants, everything he needs, all of himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Harry blinks open his eyes and looks down at Nick’s chest, moving a hand to smear come through the thick hair, Nick comes inside him with a shout, clamping his eyes closed as waves of pleasure crash over him. He falls back against his pillow, panting as Harry eases off of him and flops across his messy chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re disgusting,” he says, unable to keep his fondness for this boy out of his voice. He pets Harry’s hair as Harry smiles against his skin, and then reaches for the glass of water that Harry had set on Nick’s nightstand before seducing him earlier in the evening. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry heaves himself up and drops a kiss to Nick’s lips before stretching over his side of the bed to grab his water bottle, gulping down half before he comes up for air. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Nick sip water and Nick pretends he doesn’t notice. It’s sweet, after all this time, the way Harry still watches him carefully for signs of the dark times that are, for the most part, behind him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Happy sex?” Harry asks, looking almost surprised as the words escape his mouth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nick loves him. He loves him so fucking much. He wouldn’t have been able to piece himself back together if he hadn’t had Harry’s support, his careful gaze. His love. Well, he probably would have eventually. But this, being together, being open and trusting and unflinchingly honest with each other, made it so much easier. Letting Harry all the way in had indeed been the hardest thing that Nick had ever done, but it was so, so worth it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Happy sex,” Nick says, pausing to kiss Harry’s scrunched nose, “is yes.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <a href="https://disgruntledkittenface.tumblr.com/post/190807222967/sad-sex-is-no-by-disgruntledkittenface-hey"> fic post</a>
</p></blockquote></div></div>
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